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The Best Revenge (For All Your Critic's Critiques)

Home, Ghuey, Sweet Home

I Long For Stars

All Beings Considered

Not For The Bloom of Tears Cultivated These Last 100 Years

All Too Clearly Now

Informed Through Pain

Sometimes In Losing I Have Gained A Lot

A Man Of The Clouds

The Birds Are Such Un-numbering Creatures of Distant Hitchcockian Past



Didn't You Learn That First Lesson In Kindergarten?

They Grew (A Poem From The Imaginarium)

The Dreaming Life ( A Series Of Dream Vignettes)

Cuba Libre

If This Is Any Art For Which You Care

Max on the max

The Little Bird Said

Your Next New Dying Black Swan

The Factory of Resentments

When My Blues Are Gone

Expect Yourself



Silver-Tongued Devil

Within The Green Wind Becomes The Fall

Think On This--IF YOU WOULD

Open Lines

You Got Your Lilly Back

I Write This To Remember


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doesn't it go by
I can barely remember
how it all passed
some days I wanted
to last
I prayed they didn't
when you're in it
you know
because you feel it
every pulse of it
in your bones
coursing through you
like you were home
at last
what do I crave mostly from my past
the adventure
not the censure
of pleasure
that is now
is not living
that is how
I feel about it
I think most know how to behave
and can intuit
what is right
treat others as you'd like
to be considered
how weird
only yesterday
it was all before me
the years
the doubt
the plotting and plodding
and now I'm in autumn
on the threshold of winter
I was told I was a winter's child
though I prefer Spring
and a bounce in my heart
and flowers in the ground
freshness in the air
surrounding everything
I will never be ready to go
even at its worst
I prefer life
I've got the deepest roots
in my soul

my thoughts / written directly to the page.
January 23, 2018 11:59am PST
legal copyright for this work/poem and also
for this author/writer Melissa A. Howells
and also for this legally copyrighted website name:
Meloo Straight From Her Tilt-a-World

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